


Castles in the Air

by silverraven



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-01
Updated: 2010-06-01
Packaged: 2017-10-09 17:49:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/89986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverraven/pseuds/silverraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coda to 4.20 The Last Man</p>
            </blockquote>





	Castles in the Air

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to [](http://kate.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**kate**](http://kate.dreamwidth.org/) for the beta, wonderful suggestions, and help with sorting out the ending. All remaining errors are my own.

A gentle ocean breeze ripples through John’s hair, along the exposed skin of his arms and legs as he watches the sunrise. The sky is a rich mixture of yellows and pinks above the glimmering blue water. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the salty sea air.

When something wet presses against his knee, he looks down, unsurprised to see Max sitting beside him, staring up at him with his big brown eyes. “Time for your walk, buddy?”

John’s answer is the telltale thump of a long golden tail against the deck.

“All right. Just let me put on some pants.”

He strolls into his house and up the stairs, pausing in the bedroom doorway. Rodney’s still asleep, all tangled up in the covers and face relaxed like it never is during the day. It would be an almost angelic image if it wasn’t for Rodney’s mouth hanging open with a white line of dried drool along his chin.

One side of John’s mouth goes up at the sight.

He hears Rodney fart and can't control his snicker, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth. Rodney mumbles something about pretzels and a whale before turning over.

John quietly makes his way to the desk, grabbing the pair of jeans draped over the chair. He takes one more glance at Rodney. Even after all these years, he's still a little in awe at seeing Rodney in his bed - that he can have this.

The morning air is crisp and fresh, the sand soft at his feet. The jog is as invigorating as it always is, even if John's left knee is acting up more and more as the years go by.

When he gets home, Rodney's awake and ambling towards the kitchen. His hair - more gray than brown hair these days - is sleep-mussed, his eyes only half open as he scratches his expanding belly.

"Morning," John says and Rodney scowls, heading straight for the coffeemaker.

John grins - after all this time he knows he should leave Rodney alone until he's had his first cup - but then again, John's always liked to live dangerously. He comes up behind Rodney, pressing his chest against Rodney's back and encircling Rodney's waist.

"Coffee first," Rodney grumbles but makes no move to push John away.

He nuzzles and licks his favorite spot on Rodney's chin. Rodney relaxes back into his embrace, his hands moving to cover John's and their wedding bands clink together.

John smiles softly, breathing in Rodney's warm and familiar scent. He doesn't want to move.

A piecing alarm goes off, the particular sound of it pinging something in John’s mind. He stiffens against Rodney, who’s pouring the ground coffee beans into the filter like he doesn’t hear the blaring noise.

Because he isn’t real, John realizes. He takes a step back, eyeing his surroundings with a slow gaze, his mind a jumbled mess as he tries to piece it all together. It’s like the world’s breaking apart around him, shattering into hundreds of tiny pieces that he can’t put back together again.

Because it isn’t real. The house, the dog, the life he's built with Rodney. Just how long has he been playing house with Rodney? Hundreds of years – a thousand?

Jesus Christ, none of it was fucking real.

And now it’s time to wake up, to return to Atlantis. To return to a life that seems so dim and distant in his mind that he can barely remember it. The city itself is like a shadow, fuzzy and dull. Obscure images of men and women flash through his minds eye, scientists and soldiers, but he can't recall their names. And Teyla, oh god, Teyla, how could he have forgotten? Overwhelming guilt blankets him.

_Time to go home, John_, he thinks. To the real Rodney, _his_ Rodney, who doesn’t know what John’s experienced, doesn’t know about their made-up life together. A Rodney that doesn’t love him, that couldn't love him, that has no idea he spent his whole life saving John’s. He’ll have to return to how it was before, have to relearn how to be Rodney's friend, only his friend.

Wrecked and miserable, John forces himself to wake up.

**Author's Note:**

> Now with prequel. [Sandcastles](http://lusty-daydreams.livejournal.com/72933.html) by [](http://kisahawklin.livejournal.com/profile)[**kisahawklin**](http://kisahawklin.livejournal.com/), go read it now, it's fantastic!
> 
> Written for [](http://community.livejournal.com/cliche_bingo/profile)[**cliche_bingo**](http://community.livejournal.com/cliche_bingo/). Prompt was: Virtual Reality.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Sandcastles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/43784) by [kisahawklin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisahawklin/pseuds/kisahawklin)




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